


The Wonderful Won Won - W/ OUTTAKE

by hillnerd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 11:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17549018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillnerd/pseuds/hillnerd
Summary: First chapter from The Wonderful Won Won with full first time between Ron and Lavender.Being a teenager is difficult at best- but throw in a dose of flirtations, insecurity and snogs- well that makes it even worse. Ron is torn about his emotions regarding Hermione. For now he throws himself into Lavender.





	The Wonderful Won Won - W/ OUTTAKE

The castle was abuzz with yuletide excitement, and great swathes of mistletoe and garlands littered every corridor. Ron put his hands deeper into his pockets, willing the festive air to leave him alone. The Fat Lady’s portrait was empty, making him have to wait as a group of caroling ghosts floated by.

“I’m back!” panted the Fat Lady, looking a bit tipsy. “Don’t look so down! It’s Christmas after all!”

“Baubles,” said Ron with little yuletide spirit, before dragging himself up the stairs to his dorm. No one was there, and he took a moment to slam the door with gusto a few times and kick his trunk. He swore as his foot pulsed in pain.

He didn’t know why he felt so angry, really. What was Hermione’s love-life to him? He had a girlfriend now. Hermione had attacked him with birds, and had been treating him like dragon dung for weeks. Why should he care at all? She was trying to get at him by announcing she’d go to Slughorn’s party with McLaggen, and Ron would be be damned if he gave her the satisfaction of a reaction as she dangled her evening plans about.

_Going to go out with Cormac McLaggen? Well have a merry old time with that horror of a date, Hermione!_

Maybe that was just Hermione’s modus operandi when it came to dating. Go out with unpleasant oversized moronic Quidditch players. After all, she had snogged Viktor Krum— _Krum! Of all people!_ _—_ and had never told Ron. He supposed that was what made him more hurt than anything else. They shared everything, he and Hermione. There had never been a lie between them in all their years of friendship. At least, he had thought so. That wasn’t the case, though, was it?  She had continually lied to him about Krum. Yeah yeah, he got right tetchy when Krum came up, but that was only because Hermione was perfect and someone like Krum couldn’t appreciate her and treat her how she deserved. Hermione was of age _now_ , but that pervert had been sniffing around her since she was fourteen. Krum was dancing with her, saving her from lakes and all sorts of things, but wouldn’t even take the time to say her name right.

Ron would dance with her, if she’d let him. He would save her any chance he could, and from real threats, not some stupid task. Ron was already there for her in every capacity he could be. Krum couldn’t make her laugh. Krum didn’t make her take the time to eat when she’d been studying. Krum didn’t sit beside her hospital bed all those times. Krum didn’t go on adventures with her. Krum didn’t defend her from bullies. Krum didn’t do anything with her; yet he had gotten to share something with her that made Ron’s stomach plummet. He’d gotten to kiss the smartest, kindest, most beautiful girl who ever existed. She’d given herself to him.

Ron curled into his pillow, feeling a ridiculous urge to cry. He wouldn’t, of course. He wasn’t some home-sick first year. Ron had noticed his fair share of girls, but he’d never been serious about any of them, except Hermione. He wasn’t sure when it had clicked into place how much she meant to him, it had come on so gradually. It was always Hermione. Her wild hair, her pert looks, her almond eyes that could flash in annoyance one moment then twinkle with laughter the next.

Was it stupid that on some level he’d been ‘saving himself’ for her? Of course it was stupid. After all, Hermione hadn’t saved her kisses for him. Hell, she barely managed to give him an ounce of appreciation most of the time. It was Hermione’s way to be critical, and he liked her as she was, but somewhere along the line she kept being critical of Ron, and started praising Harry.

She began telling Harry how smart, brave, fanciable, and tall he was. She even blushed and stammered when she found out Harry had praised her in front of Slughorn. Ron told her how brilliant she was all the time —told others! — yet she never blushed so prettily for him. On top of it all, she never showed faith in him.

When he’d been chosen as Prefect, most people were shocked, seeming to think Dumbledore would never find him capable enough for that particular responsibility. Hermione’s reaction stung the most, though. She looked so happy as she ran up to Harry thinking he was Prefect, saying how sure she was he would be chosen. She couldn’t even spit out a reply to the news that Ron was named Prefect instead. He always felt useless, but Hermione being unable to say one good thing he’d ever done hurt him so deeply he thought he’d be sick. Hermione was never unable to come up with an answer on the spot, but the second it came to defending Ron, she couldn’t say anything. She thought that little of him. Well, everyone felt that way about him. he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Hermione thought him useless as well. So he swallowed it down like he did everything else.

Then the incident with _Felix Felicis_ had been the last straw for him with her. She was so certain that he performing well in Quidditch was impossible. She was so certain he needed a potion to save everything. She’d missed his triumphant victory last year, and this year she didn’t believe his current triumph was earned. She couldn't fathom one single thought of him performing well. No, she blamed it on cheating, on something other than his hard work.  She really did think nothing of him.

She had to know he was mad about her, given how smart she was, but she continued to value everyone more than him. She gave all those bloody hints she liked him, but kept taking him for granted and--

Well that was fine. She could think whatever she liked. He was tired of trying to get her to notice him, to love him how he loved her.

_Wait a moment, Love? Ok, mate, that’s a bit much. Let’s say fancy._

He fancied her. So much. And she just kept being so critical, dismissive, and secretive. There were moments he thought maybe she really did notice him, and was interested in him like he was her. She gave him a kiss on his cheek last year, and he’d been blissed out for almost twenty minutes afterwards, like a poxy eight year old. Then she invited him to Slughorn’s party this year. She didn’t say it was a date, but it felt like it might be. That _potential_ had buoyed hope in Ron for weeks.

He had hoped Hermione was shyly flirting with him, as he sometimes managed to do with her. They were just two slow-moving inexperienced teens. Then one night in a corridor all that hope had all been dashed. Ginny screamed at him Hermione had already snogged Viktor Krum two whole years ago. His pride began to sting. She had said there was nothing between her and Krum — that they were _just friends._ She had lied. All this slow-moving flirting or whatever she’d been doing with Ron… it was all one big lie. Hermione didn’t take it slow with people she _actually_ fancied. She snogged them within a year of even knowing they exist. She just was toying with Ron as some backup boyfriend until someone better came along.

Well, he was done. He was going to stop fancying Hermione Granger. He was going to continue to go out with Lavender, who obviously liked him. She praised him and seemed to value him more in the past month and a half than Hermione ever had in Ron’s acquaintance with her. Hermione was angry with him over it —perhaps jealous, and he was horribly gratified by it.

_Have a taste of it, Hermione. That’s what it feels like. I’m not going to wait around for you anymore._

She wanted him to quarantine himself off to never get any attention from anyone, while she had been off snogging Krum. She wanted to continue belittling him while he uselessly pined after her. _Well, fat chance of that happening any more, Hermione!_  He wasn’t going to be her backup boyfriend and punching bag anymore. He was going to get over Hermione Granger. He wanted her to be jealous; feel what he was going through. He felt an amazing sense of vindication, but it was tempered by an unpleasant pit in his stomach that seemed to grow each day.

Instead of remaining friends through the jealousy, like Ron had with her - she was shutting him out completely. He missed her. They’d had their spats where they didn’t talk a few times, but that hadn’t been the case for three years. Now he didn’t know how to have a day where he wasn’t eating breakfast at her side, sharing small smiles in class, getting her to punch his arm and roll her eyes, and confide in her around the fireplace when Harry was off with Dumbledore.

He missed her, but also was livid with her, and he was just so torn between the two emotions he didn’t know what to do except keep kissing Lavender.

“Ron, you up?” he heard Harry ask from outside the curtains to his bed.

“Yeah,” he said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. He opened the curtains to see Harry in his dress-robes.

“Do I look like a git?” Harry asked, patting at his messy hair.

“You always look like a git.”

“Cheers,” said Harry, before throwing a pillow at Ron’s head. Ron deflected it back at him, throwing Harry’s glasses eschew. “Well, I’m off to Slughorn’s then. Want me to swipe some food for you?”

“Only if there’s alcohol in it,” Ron said with a smile. “See you after.”

Harry gave him a wave and left. With Harry gone, Ron gave a long sigh. He opened his drawer to see if he had some sweets leftover from his last Hogsmeade trip. There were only questionable colored Bertie Bott’s jelly beans left, so he decided to forgo the possible taste of vomit or bogies, and instead drag his arse down to the common room to play himself in chess.

The common room was fairly empty, with the majority of students either packing or out around the castle for one last hurrah before break. A small platoon were also going to Slughorn’s party. Ron sat next to the common room fire feeling miserable. He was supposed to be at that party with Hermione. Last time she’d been on a date with someone else, she had looked stunning, and she was even prettier now. He didn’t have the heart to see her with another man again, looking even more perfect than usual. He had purposefully shut himself in his four poster long enough to avoid the sight of her with McLaggen.

Sitting alone at the fireplace felt so odd. Usually he and Hermione would be sitting next to each other playing chess, or laughing about something, or even just studying. He’d give his left nut to just study with her. _Stupid besotted git._

Who knows. Maybe if he stayed here long enough, Hermione would come up and sit there, realizing that some Slug Club party with McLaggen wasn’t worth it.. Even if she didn’t say anything, just having her next to him would be enough.

He felt a small tap on his shoulder and a smile broke out on his face. Maybe he had willed it to be so! He turned, and had to force his smile to stay in place.

“Hi Ron,” Lavender breathed out.

“Hi Lav,” he said. _Keep that smile on, Weasley._

She was not the girl he'd been fantasizing about, but he did his best to look pleased to see her. He _should_ be pleased to see his girlfriend after all, right? She was wearing a sparkly jumper that clung to her in an attractive way, and a pair of jeans that did just as much for her figure as the jumper.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“Er, yeah, sure.” Ron put his chessboard away, and hid it under his chair with a notice-me-not charm. He doubted anyone wanted to steal away his chess set, but at the same time, he couldn’t afford a new one should it go missing.

Lavender grabbed him by the hand and he dutifully followed her out the portrait and down the hall. As they walked, he thought of Hermione. Earlier that day her shoulders so tight they were up to her ears. She needed to relax a bit. She never took care of herself properly. She was always so busy taking care of Harry, the elves and her studies, that she left little energy for herself. If he didn’t make her sit and eat, he was certain she’d waste away in the library, blowing away like a puff of dust and turning into another ghost who haunted the charms section. Maybe he could get Harry to do something to intervene. Normally Ron would do it himself, but she still hated him. Every day she made it clear how dead to her he was, acidly glaring at him and ignoring him as if he’d done something wrong. And he was supposed to be mad at her, so that wouldn’t do to suddenly start looking after her as he always did.

Lavender suddenly came to stop and he almost ran into her. He had not taken notice of their path, and until she closed the door he didn’t even realize they were in a room he’d never seen before. It was a long abandoned study nook, barely bigger than a good size broom closet. It housed nothing except a desk, broken chair, and small window. Lavender took their wands and put them on the wobbly chair, and started kissing him, as she always did.

Their snogging got better each time, no longer as wet and odd as it had been the first few weeks they’d been at it. Her hands were getting more bold each time too. It felt nice when she ran her hands through his hair, but it felt even better when she pressed herself tight against him and let her hands travel up and down his back, sometimes even grabbing his bum. She practically climbed him when they snogged, so he was more concentrated on keeping them balanced than actually kissing her half the time.

In here, though, there was a desk. She seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she pushed him back until he was perched on the edge of the desk. She stood between his legs, kissing him deeply, her tongue acting like a niffler after some gold. He almost laughed as he inexplicably thought of the dentistry practices Hermione had told him about. Maybe Lavender was looking for cavities! As she continued to writhe against him, he felt his lower body begin to take notice. This was nothing new, but this time her hips were grinding into him, sliding back and forth between his bent legs.

_Bugger!_

He tried to move his hips away, so maybe she wouldn’t feel his growing problem, but she seemed determined to keep him where he was. Her surprisingly forceful hands were able to be in so many places at once, it felt a bit like being attacked by the giant squid. She easily weaved her hands about, at one moment in his hair, then his back, and finally under the hem of his jumper and tee-shirt making them ride up his waist. He definitely couldn’t do the same sort of movements she did. It took all the effort in the world to move his hands around her and not accidentally throw her to the ground or something equally embarrassing.

One of his hands was on her shoulder started to drift downwards a bit. He was about to apologize for grazing her breast, but she pushed herself right into his hand, letting him feel her up. If she couldn’t feel his growing tent before, she had to be able now. She pushed him further back on the desk and got on his lap, moving her hips against him in a sexy way he’d never imagined anyone would for him. He had to grab her thigh to prevent her from falling to the floor a few times. She guided his lips to her neck, so he obediently began to kiss and nip at her there, one hand at her back to keep her from sliding off; the other hand experimentally cupped, squeezed and rubbed at her, making her let out a little gasp in return.

It was exhausting figuring out what to simultaneously do with every bit of his body. Was this supposed to be instinctual? Because it felt like a really complicated potion. Her hands were starting to push his jumper and shirt further up his body, and her generous hips continued to to push back and forth. He’d never had so many things happening to his body at once.

She sat up straight and without saying anything started to tug his tops off of him. He imagined it was always hard to undress someone else, but he was all long limbs, so diminutive Lavender struggled to make the clothes climb up him all the way. He awkwardly moved his arms away from her, as he didn’t think she’d like it if he elbowed her in the nose; a very real possibility in such a tight space. Hermione would have said something or given him a warning. God, there was a boner killer. Not because it was Hermione. Normally the thought of her when he was randy like this would have quite the opposite effect… But right now, knowing he was making out with a really pretty curvy girl, who wasn’t Hermione, and probably never would be had a deflating effect, in both mind and body.

He’d never been shirtless with a girl like this, and wasn’t sure what Lavender’s reaction would be. He was in fairly good shape from all the Quidditch, he supposed, but he didn’t think it was anything to write home about. He definitely was pale and scrawny compared to Charlie or the Twins, but at least he was taller. She wasn’t really looking at him much, though, so it didn’t seem to matter.

She stripped off her jumper. His breath caught. He let it out when she revealed a tight white tee underneath. Her eyes were closed as her hands and mouth explored him. With eyes closed, he supposed he could be anyone to her. He closed his eyes and wondered if he could pretend it was Hermione instead of Lavender.

He tried, but all the smells and sensations made it too difficult.

Hermione’s hair was so thick and wild and a completely different texture from the glossy carefully sculpted waves Lavender had. Lavender’s perfume or whatever had a sweet smell, that was nice, but too cloying to smell all the time- like having your nose up in a bunch of candy floss. Hermione never went for candy-sweet smells like that. She liked clean crisp scents that you could barely smell. He had smelled her hair enough as they studied to know. He thought Hermione would really like that perfume he got her last year, as it smelled a bit like books and a rainy day. Finally Lavender’s loud pants and moans took him out of any Hermione filled fantasy he tried to picture. Hermione’s voice was more familiar to him than almost anyone’s, even her little breaths she’d wheeze out when she ran he’d know from anyone else’s.

Lavender painfully latched onto his neck her hands both clawing a bit into his chest. He wasn’t sure how much he liked that, since her nails were a bit sharp instead a short practical manicure like Hermione’s. He moved a hand down her back and rested it on her bum. She didn’t seem to mind, so he gave it the same sort of experimental squeeze he had her bust. He felt his hips jump up to meet hers almost of their own accord.

"Sorry,” he feebly grunted out.

"S’fine,” she murmured against his neck. As one of her nimble hands grazed his hardness, he let out a hiss. She stopped for a moment and actually looked at him, her big eyes meeting his. She bit her lower lip as if contemplating something.

Hermione would do the same thing sometimes, but instead of looking like she had a million thoughts simultaneously flying around in her clever head, Lavender tended to look as if she only had a couple of rogue bludgers knocking around in her head. Lavender wasn’t stupid or anything, but everyone seemed simple compared to Hermione.

_Stop thinking about Hermione, you absolute wanker!_

Whatever thought Lavender was momentarily wrestling with, she seemed to be over quickly, for she fervently threw herself into their snog with such intensity he thought she might leave bruises. She bit his lip a little too hard, and put her full weight against him. He was forced to lean back until his shoulders were pressed against the wall, leaving his body at an uncomfortable forty five degree angle across the desk.

As he dazedly backed up a bit, Lavender reached her hand under her shirt, as if she had an itch she had to scratch. Ron looked on, highly confused, as she reached up the sleeves of her shirt and fumbled a bit with some strips of fabric she pulled down each arm. Her strange machinations became clear when she finally removed her hands to reveal a pale blue bra hanging from her hand. She displayed it like a Muggle magician did a rabbit, before throwing the garment behind her. Ron knew girls could do this trick as his brothers had mentioned it before, but he’d never seen it in action. All that was separating him from her skin was the thin fabric of her white shirt that left little to the imagination.

“Touch me, Ron,” she whispered.  He let out an involuntary noise and immediately complied, placing both hands firmly on her. One of her fingers unpleasantly scratched its way down his stomach, playing with the hair below his navel. She started fumbling with the fly of his jeans.

“Er… Are you sure you want to…” he trailed off, sounding like he was thirteen again, his voice cracking.

“Don’t you want to?” she purred. She sucked at his neck again, hands still on his fly.

He was very hard, and was having trouble thinking. What bloke wouldn’t want to have a girl, especially one as fit as Lavender, unzip his fly and do who knows what to his undercarriage? On the other hand, this was all happening really fast. He strangely thought of Hermione now, and what she would think about it all. Did she let Krum touch her this way? Would she let McLaggen? He felt his face flush in anger.

Lavender must have taken this as an affirmative blush, because she successfully undid his fly and tried to free him from his jeans. Between his jeans being a tighter pair, and her being on top of him, there was no way she’d manage to get him out without stabbing him with one of her long nails or something equally gruesome.

“Uh, I can—” he offered. He was just going to take his hardness out of his fly, but she stood up and removed her jeans, leaving her in nothing but a pair of bright pink silky panties and her tight white tee. She smiled invitingly at him, obviously wanting to give him a moment to look over her.

_She’s removed her jeans, does that mean she wanted to… Have sex? No way! With him?_

They’d only been going out for, what, six weeks? This was unexpected, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to assume anything. He stared at her some more, taking in her shapely form, smooth legs, and how she was playfully swaying side to side.

She gave one of her giggles, and he gave her a half smile in return. She leaned over— _BLIMEY I can see all the way down her top_!— and grabbed the frayed hem of his jeans and striped them off him. She’d retrieved her wand at some point, and Ron was suddenly nervous.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

Ron didn’t want to close his eyes in the least. What the hell was she going to do with her wand? Then again, it was Lavender. She wasn’t exactly a threatening sort of girl, and he was sitting in his boxers already. What would she really do?

 With trepidation, he complied, though he squinted through his lashes, blurily making out some of her movements. With a wave, she locked the door, did a few spells, and the room was a bit lighter than it was before.He opened his eyes to see she had conjured some large pillows to make the desk more comfortable. She had also conjured floating orbs of light which flickered in like candles.

She looked him in the eye, a besotted sort of tenderness in her eyes. Guilt; horrible guilt started to gnaw at him. He heard Hermione tsking in his head at what was possible going to happen. He liked Lavender fine, but he was nowhere close to fancying her that much. She was always a good sort of girl, who fell on the right side of things. She’d joined the D.A.,  had defended Hagrid from Draco, even though she hated his lessons. And she was nice to Ron. She thought he was wonderful, for some reason. He wished Hermione thought he was wonderful.

He wasn’t though, and this situation was proof.

Lavender looked a bit uncertain before she slowly began to remove her top.

 _Oh no..._ _Stop her you idiot!_

Lavender took off her top completely, and all thoughts left his brain. Even the guilt seemed to melt away at this. There she was, right in front of him.   _Naked. Girl. For him. Naked._ She unsurely looked at him.

“Crikey,” Ron groaned out, unable to string together any words.

This was the most skin he’d seen outside of the magazines. His brothers had a group stash of nude magazines they kept hidden beneath a floorboard under a planter on the third landing. Given it was near the twin’s room, he’d barely nicked a magazine more than a few times. The teasing would have been merciless. But he didn’t need to nick a magazine now.

Lavender’s eyes fluttered down to the ground, but she smiled and crawled up him again. Whatever had been stopping him from actively participating seemed to melt away. All Ron could do was touch her, feel every inch of the smooth voluptuous body in front of him. She pulled his face downwards and he complied to the silent command for him to use his mouth. She let out moans that made him respond in kind. She flitted her hand between them, slid it down and-- _Oh God!_ She was diddling herself in front of him as he flicked and sucked his way down her body. He’d definitely never been harder in his life.

She was starting to get louder as she writhed against him, thrusting into her hand, the other one more filmly planting his face against her. The angle was starting to hurt his neck, so he slowly moved them over, so she was now flat against desk. His hands were on either side of her head, holding his body up like he was about to do a pushup over her. She spread her legs with a heated look, and he eased his hips between them.

Lavender had somehow grabbed her wand, and suddenly both of them were completely starkers, their underwear neatly folded on the chair. She let the wand clatter to the floor. She put her hand around him and began to guide him towards her. He stilled.

Wait, was this it? Were they about to have sex? Oh no. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t! But he was right there. She was right there. Her painted nailed were guiding him towards her. But what would Hermione say?

“Wait!” he let out. She looked shocked.

“What?”

“Uh,” he responded, looking down at her. _Stop her. Stop this! Do something! Say something!_

“I don’t— my wand. Safety measures… Should we? I just— ” He couldn’t get a sentence out if he had to.

“I have it covered,” she said with a smile. She was right there. She wanted him, her body laid out and ready for him. He was right there, body equally ready and so close to having sex.

Hermione and her disapproving bewitching eyes was the last thought he had before Lavender started moving her hand on him. She stopped her ministrations, and shifted her hips below him, awkwardly shimmying a bit to align themselves better. He pushed his hips forward, and found himself utterly confused.

“Uh, am I--?”

“No, it’s… It’s lower.”

She was wet and so hot, and how the HELL was it so hard to find her hole down there. It looked straight forward in the magazines... He shifted his hips a bit more, travelling all over like an embarrassing game of pin the tail on the unicorn. Ah, there, that must be it, he pushed forward just a bit and she let out a yell.

“NO! NOT THERE!”

What had he been pushing into? Oh god, he’d almost buggered her. Why was this so hard? _Ha, hard. Wait, focus_! So he had to somehow get higher.

He fumbled around in interminable silence, his face turning red in embarrassment. She gave a sigh, made an annoyed face and brought her hand down to guide him. All of a sudden he was there. He had heard you were supposed to be super gentle with a girl and it’d hurt them or something if you weren’t, especially their first time, so he stayed still, barely in her.

“Wait… is this… Is this your…” Ron didn’t know how to ask. Why didn’t he ask before?

“Isthisyourfirsttime?” he let out.

“Yes!” she said, giving him a scandalized look. He nodded, not wanting to say out loud it was his first time too. She gave a cough which clenched her around him tighter for a moment. He didn’t know that was a thing.

“Shouldn’t you move more?” she asked.

“I—I will. I mean, yeah. I thought it was supposed to hurt you or something when I broke your… your…” _Hyphen? God I have no blood in my brain._

“No. I use tampons.”

He made a face, having no clue what that non sequitur had to do with anything they were doing now. She looked mad, so he pushed forward a bit more.

“You ok?” he asked. His arms were beginning to burn already from holding himself aloft so long.

“Yeah,” she said awkwardly, giving a tiny wiggle of her hips. “Just move or get in there more?”

He immediately obeyed and quickly sheathed himself in one awkward thrust.

She gave a un-Lavender like grunt and pushed at him. “Ouch, Ron! That hurt!”

“You said to—”

“Well that deep hurts!”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s too long.”

“It is?” he said, suddenly feeling a bit chuffed. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d measured up to others. He thought he was alright, but he didn’t really know. Then again, she wouldn’t know either. Dammit.

_Shit, I’ve been still too long._

He slowly pushed forward a bit, and let out a long deep moan. This was… So this was sex? No wonder people were always talking about it. He mumbled a string of expletives as he started to experimentally move his hips back and forth. Charlie had said you were supposed to rub a girl when doing this, but Ron had no idea how he was supposed to keep himself from crushing her, not go too deep, not slip out, and rub her at the same time. His arms were burning from holding himself a foot or so above her this whole time. Was he supposed to one armedly do that and somehow finagle his fingers between their pistoning centers? This was so damn confusing.

She gave him a smile and he stopped thinking, and just started moving She silently started to move her hips with him and if he hadn’t had a good wank that morning, he knew he would have finished right there and then. He continued to thrust himself in and out of her, and it felt good, but his arms weren’t going to last much longer. He felt a familiar sensation coiling dangerously close to the surface.

He closed his eyes, and an unbidden image of Hermione came to him, half imagined, half real. Her smile that she saved just for him, her amazing hair splayed around her, her little hands rubbing their way down his side as she moaned his name. It felt awful and wonderful to have such a forbidden image of her enter his mind at this moment. His thrusting became erratic and so fast, he surprised himself.

“I’m gonna…”

With a final swirl of his hips he finished, shivers working their way through his body. His hips stuttered to a halt and he let out a deep breath he’d been holding. As gently as he could he rolled off Lavender and onto his side, back against the wall. Panting and sweaty he closed his eyes for a moment.

It took a moment before Lavender started to move, looking about them. He opened his eyes, and she was looking down at her lap with a disgusted look on her face.

“I’m sorry... I should have-- was it bad?” he asked.

“Oh no, you were wonderful, Won Won,” she said with a dreamy smile. “I’m just looking for my wand. This was just messier than I thought it’d be?”

He pulled a face, not sure if he was more disgusted by the mess or the nickname. _Won Won?_ He hoped that wouldn’t last.

 _Ok then. She said I was wonderful. Does that mean I’m not bad at sex?_ _She didn’t get off though. Am I supposed to do that for her now?_

She had already done a cleaning charm with her wand and was putting on her jeans. He sighed and retrieved his own wand, doing a tiny bit of clean up himself. Lavender was putting on her bra, looked up and gave him that same besotted smile from earlier. Oh yeah… He’d forgotten about that. The guilt from earlier was back in full force. Once they were dressed, he was sitting on the table again, wanting to nap. Or find a time-turner to stop himself from making the biggest mistake he’d ever made. Either would do. She leaned over and gave him a long kiss.

“Oh Ron,” she gushed, putting a hand on his cheek and smiling at him. “I knew I should wait for the one, and I’m so glad I did!”

The one? Oh Merlin… This was way worse than he ever thought it could be. How could she possibly be under that impression? They’d only been dating six weeks. Seeing how she was looking at him, he needed to make sure they never had sex again. What a twat he was. He could have stopped her at any time, but he’d let his cock do the thinking for him. Now he had a girl who had given herself to him, probably thinking he loved her or something, when he loved - _Fancied! -_ another girl.

“You’re going home for the holidays, right?” she asked out of nowhere, banishing the pillows she had conjured and unlocking the door.

“Yeah. Harry will come along like he always does.”

“Maybe instead we could stay at Hogwarts? Spend the holidays together, just the two of us?” she asked, giving him a saucy smile.

“Er, I don’t think my parents would be too keen on that. Ever since this whole You-Know-Who business started back up, they want us all home for the holidays.”

She made a pouting face, but didn’t push it any further. She happily held his hand as they took an aimless route back to Gryffindor Tower. She suddenly made a face and stood stock still. He looked at her, wondering if maybe she’d left something back in the room.

“Is Hermione going to be staying at your home for the holidays?” she asked, looking suspicious.

“What? No… I reckon she’ll be with her parents.”

“You’ve spent a lot of holidays with her before, though, haven’t you?”

Thinking back, Ron had to say yes. He and Hermione had spent every Christmas holiday together since they were twelve. Lavender’s expression was turning dangerous, so he skirted admitting this.

“We’ve spent a few holidays together, yeah. But always with Harry. And not this year.”

“Why not this year?” asked Lavender, crossing her arms.

“I dunno, Lav, she went off with her parents last year too.”

“I know for a _fact_ Hermione spent last Christmas with you! She wasn’t off with her parents last year.”

“Well, she was off with her parents skiing or something, then she came back when my dad was hurt and in hospital.”

“What excuse will make her come over to your house _this_ holiday, then?” asked Lavender, looking put out.

“Oy, it wasn’t an excuse. My dad was hurt! She’s my friend,” Ron said, getting equally cross.

“Friend…” said Lavender slowly, as if she had never heard the word before.

How had this turned into row? They’d just been having sex and she said he was ‘the one,’ and now she was interrogating him him about Hermione’s holiday plans.

He said Hermione was still his friend, and he hoped that remained true. Thinking over what Lavender had said, maybe Lavender was onto something. Maybe he could arrange an accident or something and Hermione would come to the Burrow for Christmas. She’d never be so mad that she wouldn’t make sure he was ok if he was really hurt, right?

“Fine… Fine,” said Lavender giving a sigh. “I trust you.”

“Uh… Ok good,” said Ron, not exactly sure why she was abruptly changing the topic to trust, but whatever would get her off his back was fine by him.

They made their way back to the common room, and she gave him a deep kiss before saying, “Goodnight, Won Won.”

“Night,” he said, hoping she’d stop calling him that. If she thought he’d start calling her Lav Lav, she was mad. He gave a sigh and went to sit next to the fire place for a bit. With a tired ‘oof’ he sank into a settee and stared at the fireplace.

Well, he wasn’t a virgin anymore. That was odd. Did he look different? He didn’t feel all that different, other than the cloud of shame he felt hovering over him. He needed to figure out a way to extricate himself from Lavender, but wasn’t sure how. Them having had sex made it so much worse. He couldn’t chuck her now. They’d just had sex! Tomorrow it was Christmas holidays. Maybe when they got back in January? But that was awfully close to Valentine’s day, which he knew Lavender would flip out over.

_What have you done?_

He put his head in his hands and let the fire warm him as he shuddered.

The portrait hole gave a click, and he looked up to see Hermione. His stomach gave a flip. She looked beautiful. She wore a festive red dress that clung to her perfectly, black stockings and was carrying a un-Hermione-ish pair of red heels. Her hair was down, a bit more tamed than usual, but still wild and gorgeous. She gave a loud sigh and went to the fireplace before giving a choked noise when she saw Ron was there.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at him.

“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands.

She sat in the chair across from him and crossed her arms and legs.

They sat in silence. Maybe this was when they’d finally make up.

“Have a good time at the party?” Ron asked, trying to keep any bitterness at bay.

“You’d know if you had come with me,” she spat out, her whole body stiff with indignation.

“I know…” he said quietly. He looked across at her, hoping he conveyed a bit of how sorry he was. Her breath caught, and she looked him in the eye for the first time in weeks. “I _do_ hope you had a good time, though.”

She scrunched up her face in that cute little expression she made when she was trying to politely express displeasure.

“It was… interesting.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking amused.

She gave a hesitant smile, and was about to say something when McLaggen came through the portrait hole.

“Ah, there you are!” McLaggen said, looking mildly put out. “You didn’t say anything. I was asking Harry where you were even!”

Hermione gave McLaggen a forcefully bright smile and rose. Ron did everything he could to look neutral, busying himself with retrieving his chess set.

“Sorry,” Hermione said to McLaggen, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “My feet were hurting from these heels. Also that vampire kept getting too close for my liking.”

“Well, maybe we can continue the night somewhere else in the castle. Astronomy tower, perhaps?” McLaggen oozed. _Oily sod!_ Ron stared at them, waiting to hear Hermione’s reply.

“No thank you,” said Hermione quickly, taking a step back. She looked back at Ron for a moment before saying, “maybe after our next Slug Club meeting.”

“Ok,” said McLaggen, a smarmy grin taking over his face. “Do you mind if I go back to the party without you?”

“Please do,” she said, looking happy to be rid of him.

He leaned over, grabbed Hermione, and gave her a kiss on the mouth that more resembled a one sided snog, before he waltzed out the portrait hole. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, then quietly made her way to the dormitory stairs.

“Ron?” she asked, almost too quietly to hear.

“Yeah?” he immediately stood and walked to her until he was only a few feet away.

Her eyebrows were creased, and she had that expression she got on her face when sorting out a particularly hard puzzle. She was looking into his eyes, and it took everything in him to not confess everything, apologize for being an idiot, and beg for her to take him back. Her eyes trailed down his face to his lips, then lower still to his neck. Her almost tender expression suddenly turned cold.

“Might want to spell those love-bites away before you see your Mum tomorrow,” she bit out, before fleeing up the stairs.

_Shit._

He’d been so close sorting things out. He went over to a shiny suit of armor and sure enough, Lavender had left her mark on his neck, many times over, like the beginnings of a spattergroit infection.

Feeling thoroughly defeated, he went to bed, not bothering to wait up for Harry. He fell asleep rather quickly, but it was a restless one, filled with visions of Hermione and that cold look on her face. He woke early, long before the rest of his roommates were up, and held his head, elbows resting on his knees. This situation with Hermione was utterly hopeless.

There was no way to fix anything before the break, so he supposed there was no point in dwelling on it. He was about to face the twins and everyone else at home, and really didn’t want the grief they’d give him if he looked as terrible as he felt.

He went to the restroom mirror and checked out the damage to his neck and chest in better lighting. He looked less like he’d had sex and more like he’d been fighting a bunch of pixies with his hands tied behind his back. He got his wand and quickly healed the hickies and scratches as best he could. He’s need some bruise removing paste to finish the job, but a scarf would do the trick until he could find some in the healing cabinet.

He practiced smiling as if nothing was wrong in the mirror. It took a few tries, but he thought he finally managed it. Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. He was going to go home and enjoy Christmas, and not think about Hermione once the whole time, if he could help it. With that, he showered, shaved his face, and began to brush his teeth.

“Hey Ron,” said Neville coming into the bathroom. Ron nodded at him, continuing to brush his teeth. “Did you know Hermione went to Slughorn’s party with that berk McLaggen?”

Ron spat and decided to practice his smile.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up,” he smiled widely, before continuing in forcefully chipper tone.  “Have a happy fucking Christmas, Neville.”

“Er, you too?” Neville stated uncomfortably, as Ron pushed past him into the dorm room, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

“Not so early, ya cunt!” yelled Seamus. Harry and Dean simply grunted in seeming agreement.

Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. He was going to go home and enjoy Christmas, and not think about Hermione once the whole time.

And he would not kill any of his dorm mates. It was Christmas after all.

  



End file.
